


happiness is a (blue) butterfly

by Pixielle



Category: Blue Beetle (Comics), DCU (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: -chanting in the distance- Boys Night Boys Night Boys Night, Alcohol, Anxiety Disorder, Bisexual Male Character, Canon Compliant Through Season 3: Outsiders, Clubbing, Future Fic, Intoxication, Jaime Reyes is my favourite human and he doesn't even exist, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Mental Health Issues, Post-Break Up, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Speed Force, The Runaways and Jaime are actually real friends, Therapy, everyone is legal and in their 20s, jaime: "processing trauma? never heard of her.", my children have been through a lot y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2020-10-21 11:42:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20692952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixielle/pseuds/Pixielle
Summary: "Happiness is a butterfly, which when pursued, is always just beyond your grasp, but which, if you sit down quietly, may alight upon you."(Jaime's quickly learning that breakups are the fucking worst- but they're less bad when you can accept the support of the people around you instead of going catatonic.)





	1. endings and beginnings

_Happiness is a butterfly_

_Try to catch it like every night_

_It escapes from my hands into moonlight_

===

“I wouldn’t be alive without you.”

"You're my best friend."

“You- I’ll always love you, no matter what.”

“Bart… I don’t, I can’t.”

“You make me happy.”

“I need you to be my friend.”

“After everything, I can’t lose you.”

===

{ Arise. If you don’t consume something of nutritional value within 38 minutes you will succumb to hypoglycemia, and I will be forced to take control for our welfare. }

The scarab’s voice echoes in Jaime’s mind for a second before he realizes that he was still asleep and the earlier voices were just a dream, echoes of memories long since past.

Khaji-Da was actually threatening him now, which meant that it was probably a big deal. Clicking on his phone screen, he saw it was approaching 4 in the afternoon on a Saturday and Jaime was still struggling to make himself get out of bed.

“As if.”  
  
{ Jaime Reyes. }  
  
“Yeah, I’ll go eat some leftovers. I have to get up and finish that immunology paper sometime this weekend anyways…”

Jaime flops himself out of bed towards the kitchen to get some water, pausing along the way to turn on a few lights and one of the chill music channels on his tv so it felt less like a morgue in his apartment.

“And evidently do some dishes… And laundry.”

He pauses to sniff for a microsecond, “And a shower.”

{ If your mother saw this place she would likely experience another pulmonary embolism. }

“Khaji! Dude, that’s messed up.”

{ Is a heart attack not synonymous with a great emotional shock in English? }

Jaime rolls his eyes as he takes a gulp of water, knowing that it wasn’t worth putting up a fight.

Jaime walks over to the washer and quickly dumps his hamper in. He thinks for a millisecond and shucks off his pajamas, which consist of an obnoxious pair of blue and black buffalo plaid drawstring pants that Bart had gotten for him for Christmas last year. Though, Jaime had to admit he was grateful they were less outrageous than the red and neon yellow pair Bart had shown up in himself. They were made of ridiculously soft flannel, and quickly became his favourite pair of winter sleep pants completely unironically.

The second and third generations of the team had gradually turned Christmas at HQ into a more casual event, and each Boxing Day everyone who wasn’t on undercover missions flowed in and out for a few hours to hang out, eat, and swap gifts. It was surprisingly low pressure, and while M’gann had tried a few times to overproduce it with White Martian (*cough* Elephant) and Secret Santa, eventually they all trickled down into just gifting what they wanted, and she got to focus on the food.

Speaking of, he decisively grabs the bin of arroz con pollo out of the fridge and throws it into the microwave, pressing buttons at random. His mother had shoved the container at him as he left after dinner earlier in the week, and Jaime shook his head at the memory. Her voice still rang in his mind, “You’re getting too skinny, mijo. You’ve got to keep your chin up, this pain won’t last forever.” Her rings were metallic but warm against his chin as she gently lifted his head, and it was comfortingly familiar to him. Mostly of getting scolded as a young child, and the feeling made a brief but genuine smile break through his expression at the realization. “Te amo Mamá, y gracias.”

The past month had been the most difficult of Jaime’s adult life so far, to the extent that he didn’t wish it on his worst enemy. He even took formal time off from the Team for the first time since joining at fifteen. It was likely for the best, even though the reason for his hiatus wasn’t even on his team anyways.

After five years, Traci and Jaime mutually decided to break up. At least that was what they told the leaders of the JL teams in order to keep the drama to a minimum. When it really came down it, the pain of his life being turned upside down hit Jaime fast and hard. With hindsight now, he could see it coming like it was the most obvious thing in the world, but no one ever thinks that they’re going to get dumped out of the blue.

He’d be the first to admit that the stress of Jaime’s first year of med school had been a lot for both of them, but Traci seemed to take it with grace and was supportive as ever. Jaime’s family loved Traci to death for her loyalty to Jaime, and Doctor 13 admired his passion and determination to follow through with becoming a doctor as well. That made it all the harder to break the news to all of them when the time came.

Just between them, it wasn’t an explosive fight, no screaming or shattering glass. It was a low-burning candle finally being extinguished, a mercy to the wick.

They just weren’t in love with each other, and in Traci’s words, “we both deserve another chance.” That had upset him on the surface, like his reality was being smashed, but with some distance, Jaime could see that he was more in love with the idea of being with someone than with Traci herself. His anxiety had showed itself in similar ways in the past, and it wasn’t surprising to him. No questions, no fear, in the moment he could only free an understanding nod from his exterior. Walls back up, it was over.

Jaime decided to keep the apartment, and she moved closer to her father. He didn’t know if he regretted that yet, because there was such a little commute to school. But he was sure that he didn’t regret the breakup, no matter how much it still hurt that that part of his life was irrevocably done and over with.

“BOY’S NIGHT!!!”

Speaking of regrets, giving Tye the extra key to check in on Traci’s kitten a few months ago and not asking for it back was topping the charts at the moment. In fact, it was the only active regret he was feeling as he sprinted, naked, to his bedroom from the shower, throwing water on the carpet.

“Jaime, where’re you at?” he heard Virgil call out from the front room.

“Just got out of the shower, getting dressed. Tequila’s in the one above the fridge.” He heard a round of whoops go through his living room, and he recognized Ed’s cackle and fast, accented speech as he teleported into the kitchen. Jaime rolled his eyes, but he was smiling and couldn't resist laughing at the reaction.

His mind swirled at even attempting to try to decide what he wanted to wear… He put on a pair of boxer briefs and an undershirt, and opened his door, “Hey Tye, come help me pick what to wear, I don’t even know where we’re going.”

A shot glass hurriedly hits the counter, and he hears a brief raspy, throaty groan not unlike a cat dry heaving that he confirms as Tye taking his first shot. A muffled “coming-” permeates down the hall, sock feet padding along Jaime’s carpet.

Jaime takes a second to check himself in a mirror, and despite seeming a little tired and worse for wear, he doesn’t think he looks too terrible. His (still damp) towel dried hair is definitely a mess and in desperate need of a trim. He pauses to run his fingers through it, second guessing the thought. _**Maybe it’s time for a change...**_

Tye taps his knuckles against the door as he opens it fully, and when Jaime turns around to look at him Tye’s face is eerily close and pulled into a Jokeresque grin around the lime wedge between his teeth.

“Mierda! You scared the hell out of me!” Jaime’s fist connects with the meat of Tye’s shoulder with a thud.

“Sorry, I thought you’d still be depressed and needed some middle school level entertainment.”

“Nah, I’m doing okay, you don’t have to worry about me on that front…” Jaime lies through his teeth, and somehow Tye doesn’t pick up on it and lecture him on it. He was going to have to stop observing Bart flip his persona on and off, he was becoming too effective of a liar for his own comfort.

“Even though we’re all gonna worry about you regardless, that’s why we’re here! You deserve to have fun too- it’s boys night!”

The echo of Virgil and Ed in the other room parroting the declaration of it indeed being “boys night” made both Jaime and Tye meet eyes and bust out laughing.

“Come on, man, let’s find you something rad, I’ll make you a proper ladykiller.”

===

In the end, they went with a pair of Jaime’s super dark wash jeans, an ancient black button down (that he had actually last worn to a funeral) with the arms cuffed up, and his low rise leather boots sat by the door.

By the time he finally was dressed, the Scarab wasn’t able to be ignored anymore, and Jaime was actually starting to feel hungry. Wolf whistles rang out in the kitchen as he walked in and Jaime hid his tiny grin behind his raised middle finger before going to reheat the chicken and rice in the microwave. He picked at it as the others continued to pregame, and he accepted a highly diluted cherry Old Fashioned. Jaime, not surprisingly at all, wasn’t a huge drinker as his anxiety (and the scarab on his back) didn’t always process it well, but he could drink occasionally and enjoy it as it was.

As he was finishing up his meal, the “blink and you'll miss it” sound of a speedster phasing through his front door interrupted the conversation before said speedster appeared in the kitchen.

“Bart- you do know I have a doorknob, right? It wasn’t even locked this time.”

“But what’s the fun in that?”

“Oye cucú- it’s been a minute!” Ed shoves his hand across Jaime’s breakfast bar to mess up Bart’s hair, and Virgil sends a tiny shock through his hand to make it stand on end. Bart let out a squawk, sidestepping after a picosecond of debatedly enjoying their good-natured razzing. He runs his hands through his hair, letting the crackles of electricity out as he flattens it down and sarcastically sneers at the two sat in the stools that were still laughing at his reaction.

Bart and Ed had dated briefly while they were both still in high school, but in the end they decided they liked being friends better. The way Bart described it to Jaime at the time was, “mutual attraction doesn’t always insinuate long term romantic compatibility,” and he was finally starting to understand that. Bart had always been scarily emotionally adept, even when they first met, it was funny that it took Jaime so long to begin to comprehend that. Jaime was always more of a learn through experience kind of guy anyways, it wasn’t his fault.

Bart sidles up alongside Jaime where he’s sat on the counter and hip checks the other’s knee, sending the last of the electricity in his body surging down Jaime. He wiggles away in discomfort with an exasperated groan and is about to scold Bart when the other comes in close again and grabs the last piece of chicken from the container. Making a face at Bart’s smug smile, Jaime tries to poke him with his fork, but as always, is too slow and misses by millimeters. Jaime looks away to grab another scoop of rice, before answering a question Tye asked him about school. He also misses the way Bart’s eyes run down his neck and arms to his waist and the teasing snickers that come from Ed’s direction.

“You look nice, what’s the occasion?”

Tye enthusiastically butts in, “We finally all had the time to go out ‘n show off Jaime! And he said he wasn’t up to go to Vegas until the semester was over so clubbing it is.”

“The clubs in San Ant care more about liquor than dancing, but we can still have some fun.” Jaime shoots a genuine grin at Bart, and Bart’s eyes widen for a second before pausing.

“Wait wait… can I come? I’ve never gotten to go out with you guys properly since turning twenty-one!”

“Looking like that?”

“Ed!” Tye hides a surprised laugh within the cough of Ed’s name into his glass.

“Kidding, I’m kidding... Más o menos.”

Bart squints his eyes and wrinkles his nose before crossing his arms, not even looking down at his (also wrinkled) three-quarter sleeve raglan and his light wash 512s that he’s just never given up, “Hey, I wasn’t even expecting y’all to be here, not to mention to be going out. I thought I was gonna have to pull Jaime out of bed to make him eat if the scarab hadn’t beaten him up already.”

And Bart’s gone, the sensation of wind lasting less time than it took for Virgil to look up at Jaime with barely masked pity.

“Bro, I know it’s boys night and I know none of us will harp on you, but you know it’s okay to be fucked up over this. You guys were together like forever… I couldn’t even imagine going through what you are now.”

“No… It’s really not as bad as Bart made it sound.” Jaime thinks for a second, and Ed looks like he’s about ready to jump over counter and savage him for diminishing his feelings, ever the counselor. Jaime holds up a hand to make him wait. These are his friends and they genuinely care about him, he shouldn’t lie for other people’s benefit. And realistically he knows he shouldn’t lie more anyways, especially if Bart was gonna be around to contradict him tonight.

“Honestly, I think I knew for a long time deep down that it was coming. I’m just… you all know I’m not great with change.”

“I don’t think anyone really is, the idea of someone actually being able to jump up gleefully and turn their life around 180 degrees is just post-Luthor propaganda.” Tye looks at him for a second, smiling with the side of his mouth turned up in a way that reminds Jaime of when they were just teenagers worrying about the future, before the Scarab, before the Reach, before… the end and the beginning. Jaime feels himself chuckle at the phrasing before nodding affirmatively.

“And, don’t think I’m pressuring you, but I think it would do you good to come back to the team,” Virgil picks up his drink, lifting it at Jaime in a gesture of camaraderie, “I know we’d all love you to see you back in action, when you’re ready.”

“Some of us more than others...” Ed whispers under his breath, Khaji enhancing the speech.

“What does that mean?” Jaime’s curiosity piques more at the statement itself that the backhanded connotations. Ed wasn’t usually genuinely mean to anyone so it seemed like a misunderstanding.

“Nothing! I didn’t mean that I don’t want you back around just- it’s not the same without you! In a few metasupport sessions people have noted at how different HQ feels with your extended leave.”

“Wait… really? Who?” Jaime asks without thinking, as he’s genuinely surprised that someone cares enough to mention to Ed about him impacting them.

“Sorry Blue, you know I can’t tell you. Confidentiality and all that. Maybe one day you’ll figure it out and I’ll be able to confirm or deny it on the dl.” Ed waggles his eyebrows and Jaime can’t resist rolling his eyes before dropping the dead subject to finally answer Virgil. It doesn’t actually matter much, anyways, but it’s nice that people on the team actually like his weird presence.

“I’ll think about it in a few weeks, after the semester is over. Everyone said the first year of gen med would be hard and they were RIGHT.”

Sympathetic groans echo through the room, all at a good degree of awareness of how rough balancing the life with real life responsibilities is. Jaime puts the now empty food container into his dishwasher and starts it, before downing the remnants of his drink. He thinks about going to get a jacket, but with it being April he shuts down the thought.

“Scarab says Bart’s on his way back, let’s get ready to head out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just between us, the Traci and Jaime break up was heavily influenced by my older brother's breakup after they had been together for 7+ years, so i hope that came across realistically at the very least. i get wanting characters to be together no matter what, but sometimes people need life experience, and hating their exes does no good. i'm holding onto that "first relationships very rarely work out in the long run" that they had Jace drop in season 3 completely out of context lmao
> 
> p.s. i am not smart and haven't started writing the second chapter of this beyond the outline so pleaseeeee don't expect much.
> 
> p.p.s. the opening lyrics come from 'happiness is a butterfly' by lana del rey- the queen gave me enough emotional strength by releasing a new album to actually finish a piece of writing and i'm grateful.


	2. time, truth, hearts

chapter two - time, truth, hearts

_I wanna stand up, I wanna let go_  
_ You know, you know; no, you don't, you don't_  
_ I wanna shine on in the hearts of man_  
_ I want a meaning from the back of my broken hand_  
_ Another head aches, another heart breaks_  
_ I'm so much older than I can take_  
_ And these changes ain’t changing me_  
_ I ain’t the gold-hearted boy I used to be_

_And when there's nowhere else to run_  
_ While everyone's lost, the battle is won_  
_ And you can’t hold on to_  
_ All these things that I've done._

===

It’s already getting mentally late for Jaime by the time they make it to the bar.

The dj is in full performance mode but the noise level isn’t as oppressive as Jaime thought it would be. They all get a round as a group, but Bart scatters pretty much immediately after the first, not even wasting his time or money attempting to feel drunk. He’s basically running to join the throng of people dancing near the booth once he saw that Jaime had sat down for the long haul. Tye sits next to him deliberately for a few drinks worth, scoping out the place. He assumes Jaime is doing the same, but Jaime's eyes are stuck.

Bart's blurring at the edges.

He's got his own special effects, a cinematic masterpiece in itself, if any camera could ever have a fast enough sensor to capture it.

It's unobservable to any of the civilians around him (especially when the majority of the people were tipsy college students who weren’t trained to pay attention to their surroundings in life or death detail), but after so many years it was something that Jaime had grown to look forward to seeing. It meant Bart was genuinely happy. The smile on his face grows as he dances but it isn’t pulling unnaturally taut with force like it so often does, it’s open and wholly him. It makes Jaime want to really smile too, just for himself, because he wants to be able to feel that content, if only for a moment.

Bart subtly phases himself through reality on beat as he bounces through the crowd. Jaime can tell its to allow himself to really move and not get pinned down, but Khaji still emphasizes it for him behind their eyes with a flash of gold, commenting on how efficient it is. The unintentional comedy of it breaks the entrancement, Jaime leaning back into his chair and laughing as he starts to scan the rest of the club with his eyes.

He sits at the far end of the bar and watches the room swell as the night trods on, people socializing and flirting and moving through their routines without a second thought. The only coherent thing that crosses his mind is **“I’m not ready for this.”**

He’s long since waved on Virgil and Ed, letting them go out to dance once they got bored. He tries to get Tye to as well, but he decides to hang around and people watch with him for a while. It’s nice, not having the expectation to keep up a conversation in this environment. Eventually Tye grabs at his shoulder, telling him to come dance when he’s ready, or to come find him if he needs him.  
  
Thirty minutes later Jaime’s staring down his last (nearly empty) bright blue fruity mixed drink. The blue curacao just makes the drink taste like watery pineapple juice, which is way better than having a mediocre beer and pretending that he likes it for the people around him. And it’s also got three times the alcohol content.

That’s the first positive side effect of this breakup that he’s noticed, especially around strangers he doesn’t actually care about, all bets are off.

The rest goes down easy, mostly melted ice that clinks against the glass as he drops it onto the bench. He raises his finger to the bartender, asking for a last (he swears to her) shot of Windex. She raises her eyebrows at him before saying “sure” with a smile, and it hits him that she’s actually really attractive. She looks to be mestiza, like him, most obvious feature being her long nearly-black brown hair. It’s tied up onto the top of her head in a massive bun with tendrils falling down around her pretty face. As soon as she returns with the shot he knocks it back mindlessly and slips a twenty underneath it. He nods absentmindedly at the bartender and before sliding (actually, more like slipping) off the barstool.

He’s not running, he’s not.

**Yes, you are.** His mind parrots, and he can’t tell if it’s himself or Khaji telling him that.

It’s funny to him, really, because when his feet hit the floor he actually trips over them, hearing the bartender shout out a “whoa!” behind the bar, but he can’t help but laugh. Khaji’s warning is (also) watery and slow and distant in his mind, but he’s not concerned anymore. He’s actually “stumblin’ drunk”, as his father would call it, for probably the first time ever. The floor is coming up towards him, until he sees black cowboy boots and his chest whumps against something solid. Jaime grapples to gain purchase, more worried that the guy’s gonna sucker punch him and the armor is going to activate than himself ending up on the floor.

“Whoa, buddy, it’s okay! I wish my alcohol tolerance was that low.”

“Oh, hey Bart…” Jaime’s slight slur surprises even himself, and he presses his lips together stubbornly.

“Now you’re quoting terrible movies at me and this is no longer okay.” Bart pushes him backwards for a second with a smile, before watching him flounder and a look of surprise flashes across Bart’s face. He puts his hands on Jaime’s shoulders to steady him, but Jaime still can only stare down at Bart’s cowboy boots. He feels Khaji’s antibodies burning off the excess of alcohol in his bloodstream way too fast and it’s making him “caliente af”, as Milagro would say. Being in a club isn’t helping when he feels like a sickly child in the early 20th century dying of Spanish fever.

Far away, he hears Bart say, “You’re really drunk… I’ve never seen you like this,” but he’s fixating downwards, thinking about the last time Bart wore those stupidly endearing boots.

He had shown up in them a few years back when Jaime had invited him to come with him and Milagro to the rodeo. Jaime had been in his junior year of undergrad and had so little time for his little sister, who was just going into high school. The age gap between the two of them made it emotionally difficult, but now that Milagro was getting older she could understand that her brother still loved her even if he couldn’t make it to dinner every week. He had promised that he and Traci would take her, but T had been called in on support for a magical emergency with Zatanna a few days earlier and would be in Rhelasia for an entire week. After some quick thinking, and taking a second to explain what the hell a rodeo is, Bart was basically pinballing around HQ with excitement. They’d surprised Milagro the day of, and while she loved Traci’s company too, her childhood crush on Bart had evolved into a sibling-like relationship as time went on (and as an only child of his circumstances, Bart revelled in the fact that Milagro actually saw him as an older brother figure).

When Jaime had properly “come out” to his family as Blue Beetle after the invasion, the Reyes’ as a whole began to understand that Bart had something important to do with the fact that Jaime was himself again. Bart became family, and Jaime's mother made it crystal clear to Bart that no matter what happened, he would always have people out there that cared dearly for him. That was the first time Jaime had seen Bart actually cry, as he nodded his head in affirmation that he understood and tried to hold back his sniffles as Jaime’s mother held him in a tight hug in their kitchen.

The fact that Milagro and Bart almost never got to see each other anymore now that Jaime had moved out culminated as she opened the door and realized what was going on. Jaime had to physically cover his ears as screeches from both of them rang out in the dry Texas evening. Milagro ran and jumped into Bart’s arms, and he swung her around him for a second, her full skirt poofing out at the bottom. Seeing both of them, but especially Milagro, so ecstatically happy because of his last minute plan made him beam, and as he turned around to head back to the car he couldn’t deny that his eyes got a bit misty. As they walked arm in arm behind him, Milagro joked about Bart’s silly boots that he had picked up just for the occasion. They were the cheesiest black pair with stark white stitching. They absolutely screamed tourist, but Bart couldn’t care less. He just clicked his heels in response and turned his cowboy accent up to a ten to make Milagro laugh more. Jaime mused out loud where in the world Bart had possibly heard the old Hollywood cowboy sound, but it turns out he had plucked it out from watching Westerns with Jay during empty afternoons back in high school.

The memory fades with the sound of car doors slamming just Bart breaks into his mind. Jaime manages to pull his eyes from what the other probably just thinks is him staring at the sticky bar floor.

“Hey- yo, Jaime! Blue! Are you still with me? ‘re you okay? I feel like you shouldn’t be this warm; it’s only April.”

They’re not even dancing as he holds Jaime up but people are moving around them, still unquestioningly, so close but so far away. Dewy moisture collects around Bart’s under eyes, skin there crinkling as a teasing smile beams on his face in the dark. Jaime can’t pull his eyes from the spot, drunk brain seemingly only able to fixate on one region effectively. The area flashes as a red spotlight keeps passing over him, and Jaime’s eyes drop to his lips as Bart starts to lean in again. Bart’s hands cradle around his jaw to hold his head up. They’re hot like brands, even warmer than he is right now, and it makes it through his mind that Bart’s always ridiculously warm. Anxiety rolls through him for a second, still searching out what to say, and his brain is ticking on slower and slower, like a watch that needs winding. Khaji is frustratingly silent, unavailable to ground him in his consciousness at all beyond the faint whir that’s always there (it drove him utterly insane at 15, but Jaime can barely find it anymore, even if he tries his hardest). He would give anything in the world to have proper speedster sense to just make everything **stop** for him for a second. Bart’s face breaks out of focus, converging on him close, but it feels right and Jaime being drunk is so not helping him out right now. Never again.

“Sorry, global warming sucks, man.”

Jaime manages to spit that out, and he sits and mentally celebrates with a dopey smile for a moment until his inane response registers. The registering also coincides with someone knocking against Jaime and the two of them clumsily connecting, noses knocking into each other.

And for a second, they both freeze.

He feels Bart’s laugh against his lips, but the sound around him is gone. The other leans back to shake his head, emerald green blurring fondly down at him. Jaime lurches forward, chasing, before realizing how that looks. Back into Bart’s grasp, grabbing at him to bring himself some sense of physical solidity and he just can’t seem to find it. Bart feels different than anyone he’s ever “danced” with like this, he’s corded muscle wrapped around streamlined, long runner’s bones. There’s no give to him, anywhere. It makes Jaime want to press and press and press until something about him yields to him, and that’s not even the scarab attached to him thinking it. He can't control himself from gripping on when his arms wrap around Bart's waist. But when he tries to take a proper step though, the world slides under again, Khaji's voice booming through him in warning as he starts to clear up.

Bart lets out a yelp as Jaime clutches tightly to him and sways (despite the fact that Bart’s taller than him now, Jaime still has a good fourty pounds of muscle on the lankier man and balance is becoming a challenge). Bart plants his feet more solidly to tilt Jaime back upwards. Jaime's no help, head flopping over his shoulder like a fish. A large, increasingly warm, muscular fish that's rubbing his cheekbone against Bart and groans like he's already hungover and regretting all of his life choices. So, not like a fish at all.

"Hey, let's head outside for a sec, maybe the room to breathe will help you out."

Jaime rubs his eyes with his free hand as Bart guides him to rest his arm across his shoulder, other arm wrapping at his waist to keep him upright. Even in his still hazy state, Jaime can't help but appreciate the irony that in seven years they've known each other that this position has had to be used between them more than once. At least he’s not in debilitating physical pain this time around. He feels bad about it, but not bad enough to stop himself from leaning his weight onto him more than necessary. Bart takes all of it and more, like he always does. Like he always has.

The second the cold air hits Jaime's skin, he feels good. He really does, for the first time in forever. Of course he knows he feels sad and frustrated and everything but for right now, he feels good. So good. It makes weaving his free hand into short auburn hair and pulling Bart’s face to his feel like a natural reflex, autonomic, as simple and normal to him as breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yknow when you're a pleasure seeking drunk and it seems like the best idea at the time?  
me @ jaime: honey, you've got a big storm comin' *snaps*
> 
> this is looking to be a three parter! :) chapter three is outlined and partially written so hopefully it won't take a MONTH again to finish (soz abt that btw, my birthday really mucked everything up for my life's schedule and i'm just recovering now).
> 
> title and lyrics for this chapter are from "all these things i've done" by the killers. highly recommend, max bluepulse but especially jaime feelings there. i love... him. young justice is the origin of my bb iii obsession, i'll always love it for that.


	3. you are not a robot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is a 5500 word chapter.  
i've never updated with this many words i can't.  
s h o o k.  
\- opening song lyrics for this chapter are from happiness is a butterfly by lana del rey, i am not a robot, and obsessions (both by marina diamandis). all would be appropriate to listen to with this final chapter if you are so musically inclined. in the order listed, if you're xtra like me, lmao. -  
(!drama, romance, friendship! basically all of the goodstuff- i hope everybody enjoys! this was so fun to write and - ah! i'll save it for the end notes 💙)

Chapter 3

_(Do you want me or do you not?_   
_I heard one thing, now I'm hearing another_   
_The bar was hot, it's 2 am, it feels like summer)_

_Guess what? I am not a robot_   
_It's okay to say you've got a weak spot_   
_Better to be hated_   
_Than loved loved loved for what you’re not_

_You're vulnerable, you're vulnerable_   
_You are not a robot_   
_You're lovable, so lovable_   
_But you're just troubled._

_(I want to wipe out all the sad ideas_   
_That come to me when I am holding you)_

===

The cold brick of the building behind Jaime’s head is nice, mostly because it contradicts the massive headache lingering along his temples. The hard unforgiving concrete beneath him is a bit more realistic to how he actually feels. 

Bart sits to the right of him in line along the building, staring up into the darkness. The moon is the tiniest sliver in the sky and Bart is silent and still. Nothing. No babbling, no looking around nervously, no drumming his fingers along his thighs in boredom. Nothing at all, and Jaime feels so bad. That mood turnaround time is impressive, even for Jaime.

There’s a good distance between their legs, just shy of a foot. If it were him and Tye, Jaime wouldn’t question it, but for some reason between himself and Bart it makes him endlessly frustrated. Even so, Jaime can feel that Bart’s still giving off tons of heat, but it doesn’t call him in like it did when the vodka was still running through his veins. The moment’s passed, Bart can’t seem to find words for the first time in years, and Jaime regrets kissing him.

Well, no. Not kissing him in general, more kissing anyone right now when he **really** shouldn’t be. And kissing him, while drunk, with no thought given to Bart. It makes Jaime fear that his subconscious assumed that Bart still had lingering feelings from when they were kids. Bart’s been with so many different people in the past seven years in so many different degrees of seriousness. It’s not like he’s sat around weeping over Jaime. Expecting that of one of his friends is ridiculous, no matter how close they are.

Selfish is the word that comes to Jaime’s mind.

He let himself be selfish in one single way and it’s already biting him in the ass. He sighs as he pulls up his leg to bend it at the knee and runs his fingers across the smooth denim, self-soothing. And to remind himself that he does actually exist as a physical being and yes, he is the worst. Stress pulls him into his mind to overthink in a millisecond and so often the only thing that can really change that is animated crystal green peering inwards, and pulling him out gradually. Like the most inelegant cobra dancer ever. 

He chances a peek at Bart out of the corner of his eye for the first time since The Kiss™. Bart’s mostly blank face staring so intently at nothing makes Jaime want to cry. And he’s being selfish again- somehow Bart just brings it out in him, and Jaime really wishes he could understand why.

Khaji’s sulking, and for the most part, silent. They’re still mad at him, but even Jaime can feel Khaji Da’s pity beneath that. Khaji has been one of the only sentient beings on the planet that knows that Jaime has never been straight, like most people believed because he was in a committed relationship with a woman. Not to mention how much he’s struggled with it, especially since the break up. Hell, Khaji even technically witnessed Jaime’s first real kiss! Though they weren’t on any kind of casual speaking terms as Khaji was still integrating and Jaime was a wreck in every sense of the word. Jaime cringes on reflex at that memory, but the grip on his heart releases when he remembers how good of a guy Tye is for sticking with him as a friend through all of his bullshit and misdirected feelings. 

The idea of attempting to date anyone was still overwhelming, but especially on top of having to “come out” to his family and his friends that didn't know if he decided to actually date a guy.

{ No way out but through, Jaime Reyes. }

“I’m sorry.”

It rings in his ears like aftershocks of lightning, and Jaime frowns when his own voice doesn’t sound anything like himself. Bart flinches, nigh imperceptible in the dark, but Jaime feels it more than he sees it. Bart slowly reanimates, like that flinching jolt makes him slowly come back into himself. Jaime waits impatiently, letting the moment sit, feeling not unlike Victor Frankenstein. It’s not unusual for Jaime to keep it short and to the point, the unusual element tonight is Bart’s hesitation in response time.

“You don’t have to be sorry.”

The frustrated noise that comes from Bart after he finally speaks is something that Jaime has heard an endless amount of times, but it feels different now. It makes Jaime realize that Bart has never directed it at **him** before. Bart tilts his head down to look at the street in front of them, watching the occasional car drive past, but he’s still not looking at Jaime.

“I’m not angry at you for that. I’m just… confused,” Jaime watches Bart swallowing around nothing and his brow furrowing, but he doesn’t interrupt, “You’ve always torn me in ten different directions but this is... a lot.” Bart’s voice cracks on the last syllable, Jaime’s eyes following Bart’s hand as it comes up to press a balled fist against his own lips. 

Jaime tries to digest his words, trying to think of what Bart actually needs to hear from him. Because it’s not an apology, empty sorrys in the night, and it’s not a confession of feelings that Jaime doesn’t even know if he really feels. Bart deserves so much more than what Jaime can give to him in this moment. And maybe that’s what Bart should hear. 

“Your friendship means everything to me.”

The tension splinters when Bart laughs against the knuckles. They’re still pressed to his lips as he shakes his head, Jaime knows what Bart means before he even says it. “I’m flashing back to when I was a gangly 14 year old getting let down easy… please spare me the embarrassment.”

Jaime’s face contorts as he cringes, yet again, and he rubs at his forehead. He meant it back then and he means it now, too, but it’s definitely not what Bart needs. 

Strike three. You’re out.

“Bart- there was never a time since you ran into my life when you didn’t mean something to me. You cared if I lived or died when no one else did. Even when I was angry and scared and ready to end it all for everyone else, you still cared.” 

Jaime has to say it. He has to. The idea of Bart never knowing how much he means to him hurts Jaime with a deep, torturous invocation that he’s never felt before. It makes small tears well in his eyes but Jaime shakes his head. _**Don’t make it about yourself for once.**_

His hands ball into fists, “You’re a true hero and I’m so selfish to want you close to me after everything I took from you. That’s why I’m sorry. You deserve so much more than I could ever give you- you’re not meant to be a rebound.’ 

“But… you want me?” Bart looks up at him, and there he is, awareness flooding. But all Jaime sees is Bart at fourteen, complete with his bit bottom lip quaking in the effort he's putting out to keep himself from crying. The air in Jaime's lungs punches out, and it hurts. It hurts him, in the most intrinsically human way that it possibly can. 

Jaime's different now. It didn't hurt him back then. Sure, he felt bad to have to shut down one of his closest friend’s feelings, but more in the way that he felt indebted to Bart and all he could say was, "I'm sorry, I don't feel the same way. I need you to be my friend- after everything, I can’t lose you.” It was shitty and selfish back then too, but at least Jaime can say he has never been unaware of Bart’s feelings. That’s what makes this even harder; he knows Bart’s feelings far better than his own. 

He sighs as he turns toward Bart, some inner need in him to be closer, but not **too** close, winning out. Jaime wraps an arm around his own knee and rests his chin on it, eyes wandering here and away, “You know it isn’t that easy, ‘rmano. I don’t know what I really want. It’s too soon and I’m scared that I’d be using you as a feelings scapegoat.”

“Then, tell me what you think you feel. About us." Bart's impatience edges in by the end, but he's being far more patient than Jaime expected.

”I don’t want to ruin what we could have by rushing. I wasn’t ever lying when I said I need you to be my friend.”

The frustrated noise is back, and it’s the only cue that Jaime has Bart’s going to move. Bart takes advantage of Jaime’s miniscule backwards movement, taking his chin in his hand and tilting it up to actually look at him. It isn’t the gentlest motion in the world, but Jaime trusts him, and so does Khaji Da it seems, based on the lack of screaming in his mind and/or armour activation. 

When they meet eyes properly (for what seems like the first time in years), the intensity in Bart’s gaze is something he can’t look away from. Physically or otherwise. Bart is a pretty intense guy in general, but almost never in **this** way, at least anymore. Life or death seriousness in every movement, every word. There’s even intensity in his hesitation, the pressure on Jaime’s skin wavering as he thinks.

“Jaime. There’s no one I’ll ever love more than you. It doesn’t matter if we’re friends or more than that. I’ve known that since I was 13, and that hasn’t changed through years of you loving someone el-"

Jaime can’t resist correcting him, but his words are stuttering and unprepared, "I wasn’t in love, we- I thought I was for a while, I wanted to be in love with her, so much. But I nev-" Bart’s free hand comes up to cut him off, Jaime almost nipping the edge of his palm with how animatedly he’s speaking. Words are still dribbling out of his mouth as he realizes what’s about to happen, eyes widening, but Bart realigns with his superspeed to place his hand correctly.

“I’m sorry, but right now that… it doesn’t matter. As far as I knew, for five years you were in a happy and healthy relationship, Blue. And I was there, pining my ass off for a lot of it. That’s a lot of shit we’ve both gotta deal with, and we’re not gonna do it in your signature self-deprecating style,” The hand on his mouth taps gently against it with the syllables after the conjunction for emphasis, before moving it to cradle around his jaw again, “Because I’m not sad about it. You don’t have to worry about me, for me. I’m a whole grownup and everything,” A grin quirks at the corner of Bart’s mouth and Jaime feels the knot in his stomach loosen a bit at the sight, “I’ll tell you if something’s wrong, love. Self advocacy and survival has always been my thing.” 

Jaime's mouth drops open a bit as he thinks about what an idiot he's been, idolatrizing Bart in his mind as something to protect from himself. Jaime knows logically that's not Bart, but the anxious part of his brain is still there like, "but what if…" That's part of him, it is, and will be forever. But hearing Bart say that so matter of factly… it does definitely change his perspective.

"I don't know what to say."

“Say what you really feel- we’ll deal with it.”

What he really feels…

“I’m so scared. I’m scared of what will happen, I’m scared of how it will make me and you and Traci and everyone look, I’m scared of what my parents will think of me after everything comes out. And I don’t want to be scared with you…” Jaime takes a shaking, stuttering breath. A few tears trail down to where Bart’s hands are resting but he doesn’t move them, he doesn’t flinch away, and that makes Jaime want to cry more. “... I love you, I want a future with you.”

Bart hums as he nods and gives Jaime a small, reassuring smile. He moves to wrap his arms around Jaime’s shoulders, rocking him gently, and Jaime lays his head against Bart’s shoulder. When his cheekbone hits the fabric of Bart’s shirt, a silent sob goes through him, but it comes across as a small hiccup. Jaime’s arms go to his waist naturally like they did earlier, but he finally **knows** he’s doing the right thing for once. The rumble of Bart’s chest as he starts to speak soothes Jaime a bit more than he’s comfortable admitting. 

Yet.

“It’s okay to be afraid. But, just maybe, it’s better to let go of the version of you that makes everyone but yourself happy. When you jumped into a relationship when you were still healing from the trauma of what happened, you shelled yourself off. Shoved everything under the rug for everyone else,” A pause, a melancholy shake working itself into Bart’s voice, “Even if we don’t end up together forever, I don’t want you to ever feel like you need to do that again."

Optimism isn’t something that comes naturally to Jaime. But he wants it. He’d fight for it. He wants to be happy, like Bart really is, even after everything he's been through. It’s like Bart’s able to peel back the dozens of layers of himself and genuinely feel every single one, carry them with him like a coat of arms.

"And I really think everything will work out for you with your family, they're the best in every way. Even if it wasn't me. I'm just a bonus!" Bart gives Jaime a silly smile, crossing his eyes at him. Jaime snort laughs in surprise, unable to keep it in, and that reaction makes Bart’s eyes go wide and laugh even harder than Jaime is, “You sure are.”

Jaime wishes he could conceptualize to Bart how important his family is to him in simple terms. Jaime knows that Bart loves his own family immensely (how couldn’t he?), but it was a completely different dynamic. His parents and Milagro have always been Jaime’s everything, his motivation, and Jaime knows he’s beyond lucky to have a nuclear family that are genuinely happy with their lives. Possibly disrupting that dynamic for any reason is his absolute worst nightmare. 

He’s never been one to rock that boat (or any boat at all), hence why his recent breakup was such a huge deal. Traci was family to them too. Jaime knows Bart's probably right though, his parents didn't react badly at all when they found out Bart was gay when they were teenagers, they were downright supportive. Even his parents rolled with the punches when the breakup happened, they did everything right. Changed nothing about their interpersonal dynamic in regards to Jaime, emotionally supported him in every way they knew how. And while Milagro found frustration in Jaime’s changed demeanor, even she acted as though she knew it was only temporary. 

Jaime can acknowledge that so much of it is just in his head, Bart’s shown him that explicitly. He knows it will be nerve wracking. But… he can see it clear as day. The good ending too, not just all of the bad possibilities. That’s probably because of Bart as well, if he’s honest with himself, and that gives him a good feeling in the end.

When he finally leans back from Bart’s embrace to wipe at his eyes, Bart’s ridiculously wide grinning is contagious. “What did I miss?” he says with a sniff, as the side of his thumb sweeps away the majority of the tears collected on his face. Bart’s eyes dart away for a moment before replying. 

“I just… I totally understand that commitment isn’t high on your list of priorities at the moment, but I want you to know that when you’re ready, I'd really like to be your boyfriend.” Bart straightens up his posture, still smiling as he speaks, unfolding his limbs and rolling his neck to loosen it. After he finishes, he stands and brushes at his knees for a second before offering Jaime a hand to help him up. 

Jaime thinks for a second at the hand, thinks at the implications, before taking it. He hadn’t even noticed that his right leg was numb from how he was sitting. It buckles under him as he leans weight onto it, stumbling forward. Bart’s there, and he rights Jaime again, as always. 

“Thanks… I’ve got to stop being a clumsy drunk, I’m gonna end up with bruises from you catching me. This is turning into a bad trope.” Jaime looks down as he shakes out his foot and leg, jostling them both for a second as he does. 

“I think it’s appropriate. I haven’t gotten to save you nearly as much as I would’ve liked to in the past five years. Gotta make up for lost time.” 

Jaime tests his leg again, and thankfully life is draining back into it, slowly. He’s able to put weight on it, but he doesn’t lean out of Bart’s grasp. They sway back and forth, turning in a slow circle, the sound of the club a few yards away massively contradicting their movement. Jaime knows he’s gotta face the music and answer Bart, no lying, no skirting around the truth.

“My answer is yes, by the way. But after going through this spring, I might need to… go slow.”

Bart nods, leaning back in to reassure him, thumb rubbing against Jaime’s shoulder blade. While Jaime does embrace him again, there’s an air of hesitation to it. Jaime thinks for one last second about prevaricating away from the necessary confrontation, to soak in this little bit of happiness that he’s been allotted by the universe, but decides to “man up” and be honest. For both himself and for Bart’s expectations.

“I’m not just saying that stereotypically, like a sad teenager in a sitcom who just got dumped by their boyfriend of eight days.” 

Bart snorts a laugh out like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and even Jaime realizes he’s being a bit facetious. He snaps his fingers, like it could possibly change the tone now.

“Hey, I mean it. Excessively slow. Torturously slow. Is that okay with you?”

“You’re only saying that based on stereotypes of me! The speed force is on my side here. I would live a hundred lifetimes waiting for you.”

A warm feeling flushes through Jaime at the surface of the words as he gets pulled in closer. And then he realizes what Bart actually said. Jaime can’t hold in the scoff as pulls his head back to raise his eyebrows and stare pointedly into Bart’s eyes, “Don’t get me started on her.”

Bart looks away for a second, sheepishly letting his bangs fall down in front of one of his eyes, before meeting Jaime in the middle again, “It’s not her fault I got lost in time for a while, I was just a reckless kid after...” He pauses, trying to figure out how to phrase what they went through, but Jaime hums at him in understanding.

“Me too. You recked outwards, I recked inwards,” Jaime pauses and shakes his head minutely, trying to clear some fuzz away from the fray of his mind, “I don’t think reckless can be used as a verb but I’m pretty sure Khaji’s hangover has kicked in.” Bart snorts, and his right hand comes up into Jaime’s hair, rubbing at his scalp soothingly.

“I can admit now… I rushed into it.” Jaime lets the pregnant pause sit between them, growing. He can feel Bart’s eyes boring into him. Jaime can’t look at him directly anymore, and he sighs as he looks down at his shoes. “I pretended it was fine to get through it. To let everyone else get over it. I did it without hesitation, like it was the most natural thing in the world. To hide the pain I was in. And I was right. The world forgot, and I was relieved.” Jaime voice breaks, and he holds his vocal cords tight to keep himself inwards, swallowing painfully around it despite himself, “I was **so** fucking relieved. But I couldn’t forget…”

“I didn’t. I won’t forget it for the rest of my life.” Bart says matter of factly, like he’s been waiting to say it since the day he landed in the past. 

“I don’t want to forget. Because it makes everything we still do mean something. Any regular person looking in on our lives would say we’re crazy to keep risking it all. ‘How much can one life mean in the scale of the history of the universe?’ But the way I see it, we’re both proof that valuing a single life can change absolutely everything. I decided after that first conversation we had down in the grotto at Mount Justice that I would’ve gone back for you as many times as it took to save you. I was prepared to build a million time machines, face an alien apocalypse, slavery and losing my family, all of that pain again, forever, over and over.” 

Jaime’s shaking hand tightens into the other’s shirt, Bart shivering as the cold desert night air curls around his now exposed lower back, but he doesn’t hesitate to continue, “You were worth saving because you’re a real hero. You don’t have to search out forgiveness in everyone around you. You don’t need to have a saved soul toll. You didn’t deserve what happened to you, seven years ago or in the timeline that doesn’t exist anymore. And I’m so sorry that I couldn’t prevent more of it. But you do deserve to live your life however you want to, completely independent of how anyone, including me, feels about you.” 

Jaime’s eyes flick up to meet Bart’s at that, somber emerald still smiling genuinely despite the conflicting emotions swirling in them. The selflessness of Bart’s actions have always left Jaime awed and inspired, but this is something different. While Jaime can’t completely accept everything Bart feels about his trauma right now, it makes him feel better prepared to face the future than he has since his life was thrown upside down and shaken. Bart really understands what he needs to hear, and for once, it’s kicking itself through his thick skull. It’s so sad and so fucked up but it makes Jaime so damn ecstatic to feel, for the first time in months, some degree of optimism about his emotional and mental health. 

It’s not fake, produced out of vodka and sensory overload and a need for comfort. It’s all him and Bart and them, together, their shared affliction feeling less like a ton weight sat on his mind to him and more like a heavy winter jacket wrapping around them both. Nice to wear in the cold and desolation, but you can’t wait in anticipation of throwing it off when the warmth comes back around. 

“That’s enough for me. You, as you are, will always be enough for me.”

Bart smiles down at him, wide and shining, and Jaime doesn’t know what to say, al siempre y siempre. But he does smile back, rosy cheeks no longer burning but comfortably warm, and he wants to laugh at how this night started. It’s been a real memory maker, he hopes that this is what Tye and the guys wanted the outcome to be. Bart hugs him closer, and Jaime has the sense of mind to recognize his cologne, subtly spicy, and it’s what he thinks was a gift from Milagro and his parents last Christmas. How he didn’t see it all before, he’ll never know, but it seems like a sign.

“Okay, I swear I’m do-”

Jaime’s kissing him, and it’s a good thing. Truly. Bart’s noise of surprise feels hilarious against his lips, and Jaime can’t help but snicker against him and pull back a bit. “Sorry, I didn’t mean t-” 

But Bart chases him, pulling Jaime back into the hugkiss without saying a thing. When they finally break apart, there’s a light panting, and Bart releases Jaime from their embrace. Jaime doesn’t want to let go yet, but he figures it’s probably for the best. Bart does take Jaime’s hands in his and swings them together lightly between the two of them with a Cheshire cat grin on his face.

“I really wanna giggle like a schoolgirl right now, but I refuse. I’ve gotta be all ‘¡¡qué suave!! for my future boyfriend.” Bart feigns fainting as he bats his eyelashes, and cackles when Jaime rolls his eyes at him. Not that Jaime can commit to rolling his eyes to any severity right now, when all he wants to do is look at Bart. 

“You’re officially cut off from watching 90s telenovela reruns with Mami and Milagro.”

“That is so unfair, you’ve eviscerated my Thursday night plans ad infinitum!”

“Well, I do have Fridays off from classes for the rest of this semester…”

Bart’s eyes widen for a second, his ever-present smile growing teasing, and what Jaime just said clicks into place for himself.

“Diosito, fuck, uh… I just meant we could go up to El Paso together and convince them to watch something from the past two decades Thursday nights!” Even though he’s trying not to, an edge of his flustered anxious self falls into his speech.

Bart lets out an understanding chuckle, “It’s okay, Jaime, I get it. That sounds great.” Bart takes one of his hands, and leads them in a slow walk back towards the club. “But that was a super cute Freudian slip, though.” he says, his teasing wink a necessary accessory.

Jaime’s mouth drops into an “O” in fake outrage and shakes their hands between them (but doesn’t let go), “Hey! What do you know about Freud, future boy?”

“Just enough to make that joke.” Bart makes a clicking noise at Jaime, “But I have an even better joke that I just remembered, I was planning on telling it to you earlier in the night when it made sense but you were **going through it** at the time and you probably wouldn’t have appreciated it. Are you up for it?”

“I don’t know… Can I trust you?”

“I swear, Blue. In fact, it involves Khaji Da, y'all'll love it.”

Jaime pauses, and tentatively nods. And Bart looks ridiculously excited.

“Okay! So, a scarab walks into a bar and he asks the bartender for a drink. The bartender says ‘we don’t serve bugs in here, so beat-le it!’” Bart’s face screws up, mouth pursing as he watches Jaime’s reaction.

It’s a total loss, because Jaime has no reaction at all. He just clicks his tongue like Bart did, looks side to side, and walks briskly and directly away from Bart out into the vacant street.

“Nooooooo, come baaaack,” Bart laughs as he speeds around in front of Jaime, walking him backwards back towards the club with his hands curling around Jaime’s shoulders.

“That was really bad, ‘quito. I don’t know if I can forgive that.” He tries to maintain his front while poking fun, but fails spectacularly by being unable to resist kissing Bart’s cheekbone, which was scandalously within kissing range.

“Too bad, you already love me. If you can’t forgive a single dad joke I don’t think this is gonna work out.” Bart sticks out his tongue at him, and Jaime’s facade breaks with a snicker.

“Speaking of beetles and love, I meant to ask, can you even be a serial monogamist if Khaji Da’s always there? That might be a good point for your folks, you’re permanently polyamorous whenever you’re in a relationship because of the sentient bug attached to your spine.”

Jaime’s wheels in his mind grind roughly past each other at that, eyes opening the widest Bart’s ever seen them, obviously having never thought about it like that.

“Y’know what, that might be the way to go. Me being bi would be nothing after explaining **any** aspect of that situation.”

“There we go, there’s some of the optimism you’ve been waiting on, darling. Glad I could assist you through my bad jokes.”

With a begrudgingly fond voice, Jaime replies, “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

===

Jaime and Bart reenter the club and plan out their walk up to rejoin the boys, who’re around a tall table with barstools. They can see a few drinks in front of them, but most of them are half or more empty and Jaime can only think _**Oh, boy...**_

They are both distracted as they cross the crowd, Bart leading Jaime through the crowd by his hand. But they end up holding hands far more than was casual and neither of them were even thinking about it. Tye was the first to notice them approaching. He elbows Virgil with a wide smile, tilting his head over at the pair, who parallels the action to Ed who was sitting to the side of him.

“So where did you guys run off- to?” Tye starts the investigation off, gentle hiccup rudely interrupting himself at the end of the sentence as he tries to be serious.

Jaime can tell by Tye’s body language that it wasn’t an innocent question, but Bart doesn’t even hesitate to answer him, “Jaime was a little too drunk, you guys all know he’s a lightweight, he needed some air.”

“For fourty-five minutes?”

Bart and Jaime shoot each other a quick look, _**Had it really been that long?**_ “Yeah, the Scarab needed some time to kick up my metabolism.”

“Suuuuure,” Ed chimes in, tipsiness obvious in his voice as he looks up at Virgil, before winking at Jaime. 

Bart’s starting to get a little disconcerted, not scared or anything, but frustrated, “Seriously guys, nothing happened, we just talked some stuff out. It’s all good.”

“And are you up to sharing, or nah?” Virgil smiles as he emphasizes at their seemingly affixed hands. Both Jaime and Bart look down at them, twin surprised looks crossing their faces, but neither of them move to pull apart from each other. Knowing glances meet abashed ones, but there’s no malevolence, just genuine happiness from everyone.

“Congrats, guys! About time, ehhhhhh Bart?” Ed holds his mixed drink up at them, calling him out in a lightheartedly teasing way, and a few other patrons in the rapidly emptying bar turn their heads. Bart can’t stop his face from going red, spreading back to his ears at literal breakneck speed. While Jaime was about to turn to look from Bart’s face to Ed for some degree of explanation, Virgil moves in to clink his beer bottle against Ed’s still outstretched glass. “I’m happy for you guys, too! Out of anyone on the current League or Team, I’m so glad it’s you two.” 

A microsecond passes, and then Tye suddenly nearly spits his drink everywhere as he moves forward closer to the table in reaction to what Virgil had said, obviously reacting to his own joke that he hadn’t even managed to say. Depending on the vicinity, everyone at the table either moves further away in an attempt to avoid being sprayed or moves closer on impulse to check if Tye’s choking. Even Khaji Da comments to Jaime on the destructiveness of aspirating alcoholic substances on the delicate tissue of the respiratory system, but Tye just holds his finger up for a second to collect himself before finally sharing, quite enthusiastically. 

“Yeah, Stat! Y’all got your end of the world drama out of the way when you were still kids- that’s far better than the big three and most of the people who have rotated through the Team! As far as I’m concerned, that’s basically a straight up blessing of good luck from the universe.” 

Jaime and Bart look at each other in reaction to that, and Bart lets a smile free on principle. He also scrunches up his face for a second and bobs his head back and forth and gives Jaime a look that basically says ‘y’know what? Not the worst theory in the world for us given our history’ and Jaime can’t hold in the laugh that escapes him. 

By the time he looks back to the three of them, his patience has run out and they are practically smug in their pleased silence. But Tye in particular is looking at him like he’s searching out an answer, so Jaime gives him a question instead.

“So… there’s no way we can convince you guys that we’re not technically dating yet?”

“Honestly Jaime, no. Only **you** could go into your first single Boys Night and end it with a **boyfriend**.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay?? thoughts? ahh!! 
> 
> so, i hope i did jaime justice in this, that was my big focus with it. i felt really frustrated with how one dimensional he felt in the new season in comparison to invasion. like i mentioned before, yj got me into blue beetle iii, and i'm hooked for life. he's my son, i love him, he deserves meaningful characterization (and they've proved they can do it), as well as the people close to him. anyways, rant over lmao.
> 
> also p.s. that hint to Tye being Jaime's first kiss? yep. i had a whole rambly paragraph written about that experience but like. 'twas too Shadowbeetle. (and felt forced to "prove jaime's sexuality to himself" which isn't actually a thing i envision jaime going through. it's more an overused trope in fanfic and straight media than something every queer person experiences, tbh.) Honestly, Tye's really the only other person i actually kind of ship with Jaime in yj canon context, and Bart is... an enigma. i think i like shipping him with certain characters and then i'm just like... why??? they're literally, textually, made for each other and have amazing development together. i've never been a monoshipper in my entire fandom lifespan but bluepulse man, if a ship could be my soulmate jfslkdfj that's stupid but y'all know what i mean.
> 
> in conclusion: i love them as characters, i love them together, i love their friends, let my children grow and develop 2k19, and if you love them too you're the best

**Author's Note:**

> pixielle | tumblr - pixielle22 | twitter


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